corruption

LUMPS AND BUMPS

(c) Vickey Stamps

 

Heaven knew it was quiet there.  It was the attic of her mind, and the only place she could turn up without invitation and whenever she wished.  She alone held the key that opened the many rooms that lived within it.  For each of her children, there became in the attic a hallway.  Off each hallway, a door opened at her touch to a separate room for mixtures of the grands and the greats, the extended families and the friends. How often she wondered had she gone down those hallways of the mind, dust cloth in hand, to look upon them.  There had been the lumps and the bumps of life reflected, and they bought their joys and sorrows.  While they had held learning, some learning’s were painful to recall, so these she had turned once more, to the wall.  She thought of the overall of life and that of its colors.  She loved her family, her country and held within her heart, a deep and abiding faith in all of it.  She recalled a story she’d heard once upon a once upon.

‘The great Creator of all stood before His easel, an endless array of colors at His fingertips.  Around him on fluffed and lofty clouds sat His messengers otherwise known as angels.  Before him and as if but a blink of the eye, and upon the easel,  had been painted  majestic  mountains and hills, seeming to be of a purple  lavender  tint, mixed with a bit of blue.  They each in turn, looked upon the blankness beneath themselves and untouched upon the easel, in a silent question, waiting for what lay ahead

Now came the great seas with a mixture of blues, grays and a touch of blue.  They moved in waves along the edges of the mountains, and in their haste to  be all they could be, danced in wild confusion,  droplet waves of spray jumping up, rolling and returning to what they had been before the dance.  The moon would control these great waters and wonders of life that would live within.  That life would display splendid red and yellows, plus other colors that would challenge imagination.

Now came the earth, with its rich array of colors, the browns of land, shown also in the skins of animals, tans to rusty in depth, some more colorful.  The mountains looked down upon it all in amazement, wondering if anything greater lay ahead.  Up came the trees and bushes, flowers small and others large.  Scattered as far as could be seen upon this new earth, they sent a sweet fragrance of thanks up to the Creator.  Some would close their petals to the night and spread them perhaps in astonishment at a new day of awakening.   Wait!  Something was missing.  Of a sudden walking about upon legs having grown farther from the earth then most of the other animals, came man and woman as if they had always been, born to think, to live, to also be all they could be. 

And so upon the easel was shown more bumps and lumps, for children came to the couple.  Before the mountains and all the prior creation could quiver in excitement, came yet more couples and more children.  The world grew and was ever changing’

The woman was weary for as the years had aged her frame, she became more tired and chores were more difficult to do.  She got forgetful sometimes and that frightened her.   ‘What had she been looking for in the refrigerator?  When was the last meal?  What had she eaten?  Why couldn’t she sleep through the night these days?  Just when had her health gone to pot?  There had been so many questions as she had walked those hallways.  They had given her no answers.   Oh well, turning bad memories to the wall had felt good and counting the blessings of the other pictures, in their often colorful frames, had made her feel better somehow.

She had wanted to take a new hallway key inside her mind and unlock yet another door that had just made itself apparent.  There would soon be more pictures to hang in yet another hallway.  A yet shadowed but soon to be clear future lay in the tomorrows that waited ahead.  She yawned and sought out the comfort of her recliner and the warmth of the fleece blanket she loved to wrap around her to warm her bones.  She’d take a nap.  Another day lay east of here and there would be another time to open the door.  Into it she would go, dust cloth in hand and look at yet more pictures. There would be lumps and bumps but she’d get through them.    She knew that despite the problems inherent to all mankind, she was strong and she knew love from all corners of her world.  She’d seen its many colors.  Despite the lumps, despite the bumps, she knew that ….

LIFE WAS GOOD

Dedicated to my dear friend Jeanie , January 20th of 2016  

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.